


I’ve Made My Mistakes and You’re At Least Half of Them

by Pseudthisyafucks (collettephinz)



Category: Youtube RPF
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Voice Kink, audio erotica, idk jack gets off to felix's voice, nonconsensual sexual exhibitionism, sin - Freeform, voxphillia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-19 22:38:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17010477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/collettephinz/pseuds/Pseudthisyafucks
Summary: Having a guilty pleasure didn’t even begin to describe how wrong Jack was to make a habit of something like this.





	I’ve Made My Mistakes and You’re At Least Half of Them

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hishex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hishex/gifts), [ema670](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ema670/gifts).



> hi i just wanna say i love every single person in the bibrightonbois jelix server because i blame them for my newfound depravity pls and thank you
> 
> also double the thanks to **Hishex** for helping me research just wtf this kind of kink should be tagged as since it doesn't fucking fit anything 
> 
> and then all the thanks to **ema670** for their fantastic artistic blurbs that kicked my butt into gear to write this short mess
> 
> ya'll are the best i'm such a proud dad

Having a guilty pleasure didn’t even begin to describe how wrong Jack was to make a habit of something like this. 

His friends trusted him, didn’t they? Maybe they didn’t know they had to worry about this sort of thing coming from Jack, but by god, who should? What kind of friend sat in on voice chats and stripped their cock, desperate to get off, but even more desperate to hear the voice of the man they were secretly and deeply infatuated with? What the fuck kind of friend violated someone’s privacy like this? Hell, not even what kind of friend, _what kind of person?_

Jack was beyond caring, though, because over seven years of useless pining was bound to drive anyone mad. Over seven years of sitting behind a screen and obsessing over every pixel of that face, the changes that overcame the other man, the way his eyes pinched when he laughed or his expression washed clean when he was beyond apathetically enraged with something. The way he would screwed his face up into contortions of unknowable emotion, the way he would hiss words and names. 

It was stupid to be so in love with Felix fucking Kjellburg— nothing good ever came of it, especially not this. There was nothing good about Jack’s horrible abuse of his friend’s trust, of Felix’s trust. Felix had been so fucking excited to answer Jack’s call, so eager to hear Jack’s voice, as he’d exclaimed once they’d connected. _“I have the best book to tell you about!”_ Felix had cried out, unrepentant about blowing out Jack’s eardrums. _“I know you don’t read, but you would really like this one! It’s got fucking magic and dwarves and murder and shit, maybe you could read it! We could read it together!”_

Felix had launched himself into his description of this fantasy story of a kid beating some punk ass rich fucker and learning he could use magic or whatever. Something about laws and tournaments Jack honestly didn’t care for books, which Felix knew, so Jack wasn’t paying attention. He’d called Felix for a very specific reason, though, and he was lucky Felix had something to rave about, because that meant he would keep talking without needing any input from Jack.

Perfect.

Jack settled his headphones across his head a little more securely and slouched back in his chair, letting the back fall halfway down so he could lay propped up and comfortable. His heart was racing, but it always was when he did this, however rarely he had the guts or the lack of morality. Jack wet his lips, psyching himself up. Felix was going on and on, his voice raising and lowering in pitch as he narrated the story with skill Jack couldn’t judge. He was talking about some sort of summoner? Maybe something about a dick-rick? Jack didn’t really know. He just shut his eyes and listened.

Felix’s voice— it did things to Jack, just like everything else about Felix. His hands, his hips, his shoulders. The way he walked and gestured with his limbs and how he threw his head back to laugh. Anything and everything about Felix. Since becoming Felix’s close friend, Jack had slowly become obsessed with every part of the other man, all for the torturous sake of falling in love. But the voice. It had all started with the voice. Back in 2010, before Felix was brave enough for a face cam, all Jack had had was a voice. 

Felix sounded so different now than he had then, but it was only for the better. His voice had deepened and evened out at the edges, sounding confident in the same way Felix now carried himself. There was a gravelly edge to Felix’s voice as well, whenever he dropped the pitch a little too much. And when Felix brought the pitch up, when he became so passionate that he couldn’t stop his voice from covering every range—

Jack shuddered in his seat and lifted his hips, hooking his thumbs in the loops of his jeans and pulled them down off his hips as he listened. He was already half hard and ready for more, the bottle of slick next to his hand, wedged between his thigh and the armrest of the seat. This wasn’t the first time Jack had done this, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. He’d started out with just Felix’s videos, lying in his bed with some clip playing on his phone through his headphones, staring at the ceiling and imagining Felix. The way Felix gasped in fear in his first Amnesia play through had definitely awoken something dark and hungry in Jack all those years ago. Jack had “upgraded” over the years, very seldomly brave enough to have Felix’s image up alongside the audio, as the way Felix’s blue eyes pierced into Jack felt all too damning. So Jack was accustomed to and even happy with just the voice.

And what a fucking voice it was.

_“…And then the fucking punk shows up with magic of his own! And he’s like, ‘answer for your crimes, commoner, I’ll have you put to death!’ and the fucking Pinkertons…”_

Felix was still going as Jack slid his hand down the plane of his abdomen, lower and lower, brushing his fingertips over his own skin to tease. His boxers were growing tighter by the minute, wetness gathering in a stain on the front. Jack was almost ashamed at how easily and readily his body reacted to Felix’s voice. Sometimes, it worked against him in the worst ways. Sometimes, Jack would get this very same itch while in public with the Swede. Then he’d have to spend days waiting for the opportune moment to get just Felix’s voice, live and loud in his ear, before he’d have any sort of relief. 

No such torture for Jack tonight. He pushed cold fingertips past the elastic of his boxers and bit back the hiss of pleasure as he wrapped his hand around the base of his cock. Felix’s voice was rising in pitch— just like something else that was rising in Jack’s boxers—meaning he was already getting close to the climax of his story. Jack had to make this quick.

He quickly squirted a dollop of lube into his free hand and shoved it down into his pants beside the other, quickly coating his hard on with the slick. Jack sunk his teeth into his lips, the cold of the lube even worse than the cold of his fingers, bringing a sharp edge to the pleasure. Felix’s voice was rushing in his ears, making his heart race. Jack arched up in his hand and started to pump his cock, moving as quickly as he could without being too loud. He was well practiced in keeping his voice quiet, but the squelch of the lube was sometimes unavoidable. And he would never be able to talk his way out of getting caught.

 _“Oh my god, dude, it’s so fucking crazy,”_ Felix said, his voice doing that thing where it got low. Jack’s hips bucked upwards at the bass vibrating his mind. He tightened his grip, stripping his cock quickly. He prayed Felix couldn’t hear the sound of his hand working his cock because he was already too close to be able to quiet down. _“Like, Fletcher is just this dumbass character, yet I find myself wanting to follow this guy just as much as the other two. And none of this shit is his fault. Just makes me feel so fucking bad for him, you know? Makes me want to help the guy.”_

Jack gasped involuntarily as the slickness of the lube had his hand slipping and squeezing too tightly at the head. Precum spurt and slid down his shaft, joining the rest of the mess on Jack’s cock. He arched his spine, gritting his teeth, trying desperately to keep quiet as Felix talked. 

_“It isn’t fair that the Pinkertons arrested Fletcher before before the tournament,”_ Felix bemoaned. _“Didric deserved to be fucking murdered. And it was attempted! Fletcher didn’t even get to finish it!”_

Jack was close, he was so fucking close. He choked down his gasps, his breath spasming in his chest in his effort to keep his silence. His eyes were screwed shut and his brow knit with the agony of holding back while so desperate. Felix called his name in his ear, trying to get his attention. Jack was so close, he could feel it, that heat roiling in the bottom of his stomach, his balls tightening, thighs trembling as he drew up every muscle in his body in his effort to keep completely silent. Jack’s hands were stripping his cock in earnest, losing rhythm in his need. He was so close, so fucking close, just a little more—

_“Jesus christ, Seán, are you even listening to me?”_

Jack came hard enough to sees stars in his skull as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. He didn’t know if he made a sound, didn’t really care. The pleasure was washing through his veins and whiting out his existence, filling him with warmth and satisfaction as Felix’s voice rang in his head. That gorgeous voice, the tenor being the only stimulation in the wake of Jack’s orgasm. Jack came back to himself slowly, a slight ringing in his ears as he struggled to gain control of his breathing again. 

_“Jack, where the fuck are you?_

Felix was laughing, so he wasn’t upset, thank god. Jack grimaced and sat up, looking down at the sticky mess of his boxers. He didn’t like to strip completely when doing this, didn’t feel comfortable getting naked to Felix’s voice when he was already breaking so many fucking rules. “I’m here, I’m here,” Jack said quickly as he tried to put the bottle of lube away quietly. “Sorry, didn’t realize I was on mute.”

_“Are you with me, Jack?”_

“For fuck’s sake, Felix, I just said I was!”

_“Oh, so did you cum already?”_

Jack froze with the bottle of lube halfway into his drawer of sin and his underpants still sticky and warm. His brain worked sluggishly in its post-orgasmic haze, but one thing stood out. 

Felix knew. Felix fucking knew.

“Please don’t hate me.”

Jack still didn’t move, even as Felix let out a low laugh in his ear, the sound sending a thrill through Jack’s chest that was instinctual arousal and disgusting to him now that he knew he’d been caught. Felix knew and he was laughing at him. He was going to tell everyone, even call the police. He’d have a case, what Jack was doing was fucking wrong and nigh illegal and he knew it, Jack knew it, but he was weak and mad and in love and he’d done it anyways. “Felix, I’m sorry, I—”

 _“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?”_ Felix asked. _“You’re not really known for being able to keep quiet in doing anything, Jack.”_

“I’m—”

 _“Give me some credit,”_ Felix said. And then, _“And give me fifteen minutes. I’ll be over there soon.”_

That had Jack sitting up in his chair, staring at the green phone icon on his screen like it could give him answers. “What?”

 _“Unlock the door,”_ Felix told him. _“You’ve been doing this behind my back for so long— seems fair that I’d get to at least give you some sort of surprise too.”_

Jesus christ, Jack wished he was a little less stupid after sex. “I’m not sure—” He cut himself off. It seemed a little sick to be asking for specifications and answers after spending god knows how long violating Felix’s privacy by using his innocent conversations for something so depraved. Jack winced. “I am sorry, Felix. I never— I shouldn’t have done this. I knew it was wrong and I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself, but that’s what all the evil people say, yeah? I’m just so sorry.”

There was a pause. _“… How do you know I don’t like it just as much?”_

God save them both.

 _“Fifteen minutes, Jack,”_ Felix repeated. Then he lowered his voice to say, _“Leave your door unlocked.”_

Jack hung up abruptly and set a timer.


End file.
